


Ol' Hand.

by Frut0s



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Engineer - Freeform, Hand Job, Masturbation, Morning Wood, Mornings, Short, Solo, Team Fortress 2 - Freeform, silent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 03:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20284843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frut0s/pseuds/Frut0s
Summary: Engineer wakes up aroused. He decides to take care of that.If you're looking for shameless writing of engineer masturbating, well, you've found it.





	Ol' Hand.

Now this couldn't do. Not at all.

The man shook his head, considering his options. It was one of the few times he had actually woken up well rested from sleeping in his quarters, and one of the few times he had had time to change into something more comfortable before going to sleep. Eyeing the tent formed by his rarely-used pajamas, it just won't work. He can't go out like this.

Not only had he slept well, but today Jane didn't make it his job to drag every single merc out of their rooms (or van) to force them into their daily routines, for whatever reason. Which is probably why he felt so fine, but maybe the intrusion from a yelling madman could make this inconvenient erection go _down_.

Or maybe not. Maybe he should be thankful.

He had already tried just alleviating some of his bladder pressure to see if it would work, but... no. Thankfully the bathrooms and corridors were, also, surprisingly empty and silent, granting the merc some privacy. And proving the effort put into repositioning his dick, so its hardness wouldn’t be apparent, to be useless. But in the end it didn't help get rid of the problem.

Trying to think about his work projects was more of a distraction than a solution, as it didn't repulse him in any way and just kept his hardening dick happily quiet. Thoughts of his already passed-away, god bless her, grandma naked, also weren't doing the trick, despite how repulsive the imagery was. He didn't mind not trying too hard at that one.

Despite having woken up reasonably early in the morning, and only having to fight in at least five hours from now, he had been looking forward to working on his projects, some of which involved talking and interacting directly with his coworkers.

And what's worse, as time went by, he could feel the heat increasing. It wasn't just a morning wood anymore, it was in its way to becoming a raging erection, with more blood being distributed to his face, neck, and overall rest of the body. Where did that come from? He hadn't been in such a situation for years.

That’s just not going to work.

He's never been a man to indulge himself in masturbation, but that didn't mean he didn't have the experience. It didn't mean he hadn't spent nights perfecting his metallic prosthetic so it could make the perfect hand movements towards cylindrical, fleshy objects in just the ways he knew he likes.

It didn't mean that, perhaps, his obsession towards mechanical and electrical engineering, towards his beloved machines and inventions, instead of just a family tradition, didn't extend at least a bit into a fantasy of being touched by cold, metallic hands.

It didn't mean that, sometimes, when he went too long without sleeping and was tiredly working the hell out of himself into a new idea of his, his mind couldn't drift off into imagining what a man with his ingenious capabilities could be able to construct in case he really wanted a toy custom-made for his own self pleasure.

But he really wasn't the type to indulge himself like that, so his hand would have to do. It wasn't necessarily the best method there was, but some variety keeps things fun.

Having decided to go this way, he took his pajamas off so as to not dirty them (they are special pajamas!), sat on his bed, in one of the rare times he didn't wear neither his hardhat nor his goggles, pulled his cock out of his white, plain, underwear, and took a deep breath.

It had been a while.

A tiny bit of precum evidenced for how long he had been holding back from alleviating himself, lazily spread around the tip of his cock by his clothes. He didn't have an impressive size but it was exactly enough of a tool to get the job done.

Stopping himself from automatically using his fleshy, warm, left hand, he carefully positioned his metallic one around himself. The borders of the fingers were smooth enough not to accidentally hurt him, but it never hurt to be careful.

Up and down, up and down we go. Maybe a twist for good measure and there we go testing the waters.

First of all, cold. Very cold, as he had recently washed his hands and hadn't cared about not wetting the harder one. But the slowly increasing heat just made things more fun.

Although he had, as a joke, toyed with the idea before, his prosthetic hadn't been programmed (or programmed at all) in any way to do certain actions for him. It was all him, every single movement, out of his sheer will. But it almost didn't feel like so when he started jerking off, his own dick's skin rubbing against itself with just enough amount of natural lube as for the friction to be just right.

Sheer stimulation would never be enough to get rid of a needy cock, and so his attention started to go back to the ideas he knew he liked. He remembered a girlfriend he once had, how beautiful and absolutely cute she was. What a fucking slut she could also be. How he had been invited to a threesome by her after they broke up, and, although not the kind of man to enjoy these things, he was positively shocked at how hot two women touching each other for his viewing pleasure could be. How interesting the fact two tongues had less contact but were stupidly intenser and twice as effective at pleasuring his dick.

He remembered the woman who was closest to becoming his wife, at least in his mind, before all of this started. How she had fantastic bums, healthy and juicy thighs, shiny lips that would always smile at the sight of his eyes. The nights they spent together. The intimate whispers they shared when no one was around. How fucking hot she looked when she was at the edge of orgasm. How her sweet, sweet voice would sound when saying his name.

Dell's face was hot, his blue eyes sometimes opening and sometimes closing. Small, nearly unnoticeable grunts could sometimes be heard, a product of the sheer pressure being relieved. His breathing increased exponentially as time went by, heavier and warmer. He knew not to make noise, not in a place with such thin walls. Not that any was needed anyway.

Since his other hand was just... there, he would sometimes put his arm under his head, then deciding maybe it was better laying down, or maybe some nipple action could help things out but actually not really. He grabbed the back of his own nape for some support.

The stroking had gotten faster paced ever since he had started, sometimes pausing to use his metallic thumb to circle around the cock's head, grab and spread some of his precum, and maybe go back at the rhythmically and near thoughtlessly increasing strokes, if he didn't want to play around with the cock's tip anymore. He at some point had gone from sitting on his bed to laying down, his metallic hand, now warm, sometimes stopping for him to picture, with shut eyes, it was someone else's. He would trust his hips up, picturing the lewdness in her face and knowing she already anticipated, expectantly, some kind of reward or retribution for a job well done, and was trying to wonder just what exactly it was going to be. He started wondering, too.

See, one of the positive sides of the gunslinger was the lack of a loud sound of slamming flesh when things got heated.

Feeling his dick get just too hot and his heavy balls tighten, a sudden thought caused, with a great force and a escaped "ah!", followed by a grunt, a happy, almost unexpected orgasm, hitting him in the face with the thick seed spurting and being milked from his cock.

One of the good things about sporadically, if ever, masturbating was the intensity of when it did happen.

With his head back, breathing patterns slowly lightening and his heart's beating decreasing, he gave the last final strokes, enjoying the last moments of his bliss.

He took some time to appreciate how he could see his cock through the spaces between his hand.

Done, he took a few tissues from the pack on the side of his bed and cleaned himself up. After a while he finally dressed his pajamas again, as he decided now was a great time for a shower, and he didn't want to walk around wearing only his underwear just yet.

Time to see whether dealing with his sudden arousal had worked.

**Author's Note:**

> critique is welcome, the objective was to make him stay in character.


End file.
